


They Fit Those Things?

by CelticGHardy



Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticGHardy/pseuds/CelticGHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Russ still has his uniform.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Fit Those Things?

**Author's Note:**

> [any, any, uniform](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/602155.html?thread=83928875#t83928875)

Russ still had his uniform.

Milt had been pulled in early for a phone call where the other side started yelling their frustrations at him and he didn't change from his normal tone. Inside, he was planning methods of attack and what to get from a cafe that actually served something he could stomach. Stress was a killer and he only balanced out with the meals and workouts to keep his body fit. When the other agent finally managed to hang up from his ranting, he looked up to check with Lily for anything new. What happened was he had a clean view to the other side of the hallway. 

Something was going on, as the detectives weren't wearing the suits that were normal for day to day wear. Instead, they were wearing uniforms. Font was pulling on sleeves that were too tight for his arms. Funkhauser and Jacocks were waiting 'patiently', their suits barely worn. Martin's, _Niblet, he likes the nickname Niblet_ , was a little big on him. He couldn't see the commander, or Russ. Holly finally showed, her uniform pressed and new. Guziewicz came out in an older version than her subordinates, but she still fit even with a little stretching from her height. Russ was the last one out, not happy at the situation and picking at his sleeves, although he was trying to get cuffs on instead.

He focused on Russ, the suit around the same age as Guziewicz's. His was slightly more faded, as if it had been in the closet for too long or in the sun for a few weeks. It was still in great condition, even if it was slightly straining at added bulk from the man running around and eating a couple of cakes more than he should. It was still as if he had gotten it fitted for his physique. Everything was taken care of, polished, no visible stains. It was a surprise, this coming from the man that ate evidence off of a gun and balanced egg sandwiches on coffee cups.

A part of him realized he was staring, like the high school teen that he had supposedly grown out of in college. He was using analyst skills to comb over his legs, up his backside and over his shoulders to his face, which was clean of bruises and nicks. Thankfully, the guy didn't look over, or he would have noticed one 'annoying' admirer. Russ was one of the last ones out of the hall, dreading the destination. _Oh dear god. Why me? Why this place? They wanted to get rid of me this bad? Why just across the state? Why not South Dakota or Idaho? I am going to pay for this sooner or later. Fudge, fudge, shnikes._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just trying to expand the fandom.
> 
> And I did this before realizing that Russ would be in his uniform for 1x06.


End file.
